


a tale of tricks & midnight rides

by youngjo



Series: of fast cars & pretty boys [3]
Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, Piercings, Rimming, Street Racing AU, street racer!san, street racer!wooyoung
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-16
Updated: 2019-11-16
Packaged: 2021-01-31 18:23:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21450688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/youngjo/pseuds/youngjo
Summary: Jung Wooyoung lived for the adrenaline of racing down the street at a blinding speed. Nothing made him feel more alive than throwing his life to the hands of fate. Nothing else, that is, until he met Choi San.
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung
Series: of fast cars & pretty boys [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1514759
Comments: 30
Kudos: 404





	a tale of tricks & midnight rides

**Author's Note:**

> henlo thank u for checking out this fic!
> 
> this fic is part of my mechanic au universe, but is a rly good standalone too! hope u enjoy!!

Wooyoung remembered the first time they met in much the same manner one never forgot the first time they were wronged in life. Not when the wrongdoing took place, no, not this. Rather, when your mind became acutely aware of the fact it was duped. And duped he was, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth for weeks to come.

Street racing was never meant to be fair. What ruleset it had fell more into an honor system with no real consequence if you didn’t follow. Maybe the other gang kicked your ass, maybe they fucked up your car. Sometimes they even killed you. Such was the life of a street racer.. You hopped behind the wheel, hit the gas pedal, and went. Sometimes you won, sometimes you didn’t. It was just how things went. 

The racing gangs roaming the streets of Seoul were small but they carried power. Becoming someone capable of breaking into a life full of danger and recklessness required a showstopping feat. You had to wow not only the judges but the crowd as well. Fresh blood just wasn’t common. Without a gang to back your repairs or bail you out of jail should you get caught, it made existing as a solo racer practically impossible.

No else had attempted it since Wooyoung had appeared on the scene two years ago. 

That was, until the arrival of a bright-eyed new racer under the moniker of Trickster.

The racer who shocked the crowd and became the first ever to openly, unremorsefully cheat his way to victory. A race that, despite having three other competitors, still contained Wooyoung’s name on the roster, therefore associating him with the now-infamous racer.

Wooyoung couldn’t say he _ hated _ him, but he absolutely _ despised _ the hit to his reputation. It sucked even more when you factored in he had previously been the only solo racer. So not only did he get beaten in Trickster’s first official race, Wooyoung’s fans chalked them up to rivals before the race even ended. Everything he did was now compared to the pretty newcomer with enough charm to steal even a tattoo from someone’s body. But, again, Wooyoung couldn’t say he hated him. If anything, the mysterious Trickster, with his gorgeous imported holographic wrapped Lamborghini, intrigued Wooyoung. Not just because he was a slut for pretty men and pretty cars—truly. Street racing wasn’t something you just decided to get into for the hell of it, and with a car as expensive as he had, it sent a ripple of questions through everyone. Trickster either came from money or he was a topclass thief too. 

His curiosity gnawed at him with a strength unrivaled; he needed to know.

Now, Wooyoung had a pretty car too but it didn’t even feel right to compare them. His sleek black Mustang had been a graduation present years ago, kept in excellent condition by an old friend. The car wasn’t glorious but it wasn’t cheap either, an import of the highest degree and a car many sought for their collections. Anyone who touched it wrong ran the risk of losing a finger; many learned it was smarter not to touch at all.

Trickster though … Trickster didn’t. Rather, he didn’t care.

Wooyoung straightened out his leather jacket as he stepped from the bar he’d just finished dinner at. The night air carried the crisp smell of fall, a cool breeze nipping at his heels as he made his way into the parking lot. A single streetlight in the far corner of the lot offered the only source of pitiful light, not even attempting to reach where he parked his car. Eyes raising as he fished his keys from his pocket, he realized what a mistake that’d been; someone was leaning against the driver side door.

His walking came to a halt. Wooyoung squinted in distrust. He wasn’t afraid—fear and Wooyoung didn’t exist in the same dictionary after all—but he knew a suspicious situation.

This suspicion only grew as he realized what car happened to be parked just beyond his own. A beautiful Lamborghini, still managing to reflect the distant streetlight.

Wooyoung grit his teeth. Theoretically, he _ could _ turn around and book it back into the bar. But this course of action would make him look like a coward and never in his life had he ever considered himself under that descriptor. So, clutching his keys so hard they dug into his palm, he carefully made his way over to the person who was, without a doubt, Trickster.

Trickster had his back to him, leaning against the opposite side of the car. Wooyoung reached the other side, crossing his arms and raising a brow. “Care to explain why you thought it was a good idea to touch my car?”

The other man’s head whipped around the moment he started speaking, long black strands swinging with the sudden motion. Upon spotting Wooyoung, a smirk bloomed across his features. Even from afar, Wooyoung could see the glint of silver from a piercing in his left brow. Looking at him from the window of a car several feet away had been one thing. Up close … Trickster was even prettier, and that pained him a bit to admit.

“Ah! I thought you’d never come outta there, sweetcheeks.” His voice carried an accent unlike any he’d heard.

“Don’t call me that. Answer the question.”

Trickster pouted. “Why not? Sweetcheeks suits you so well!” Upon sight of Wooyung’s disapproving glare, he shrugged. “Don’t have time for a little chat? We both know there’s no races tonight.”

“Races are spontaneous; you don’t know that.” The hostility in his voice shone through a little more than he would’ve liked. Again, Wooyoung didn’t hate Trickster; he hated the dishonesty. Street racing was never meant to be honorable but that still didn’t stop what’d happened from not sitting with him right.

“Aww, why the hostility?” Trickster pushed himself upright, turning to fully face Wooyoung. His hands were shoved into the pockets of a worn brown bomber jacket, a glinting silver chain hanging loosely at his throat. Despite the darkness shrouding him, Wooyoung could still see the faintest peek of a tattoo from his shirt collar. “Though I will admit, seeing your eyes all angry is kinda hot.” 

Wooyoung was … not expecting that, to say the least. He stood there for a moment, mouth slack-jawed and mind working to come up with a response, but Trickster beat him to it.

“Let me tell you a little secret, Mist,” Trickster said, the pronunciation of his alias sounding a little too good in that accent. “I like you. Your spirit is attractive as fuck.” He made his way around the car as he spoke those words, stopping before Wooyoung. Their height difference, though small, was still noticeable—with Trickster being the taller party. “You’re unique and pretty and dangerous … all the things I like in my men.”

Trickster was blatantly flirting with him. What a time to be alive.

Wooyoung met the other man’s eyes with a soft _ hmph _. Well, if that’s how Trickster wanted to play, then so be it. He reached up and looped a finger into the chain around the man’s throat and yanked him down to eye level. “And you’re a cheating, deceptive asshole but … that’s kinda hot too I guess.”

“Didn’t know Mist was the type to play with fire,” he replied, shifting his body a little closer. His eyes, dark and dangerous even in the dim light, sent a prickle of excitement down his spine. “You are, right? The type to take risks and try new things.”

“I wouldn’t be a racer if I was afraid of a challenge now would I.” Wooyoung smirked, letting go of the chain in his hand. Instead of giving in to the very obvious attempt at crowding, he simply stepped around Trickster’s form and unlocked his door. “You won’t win me over with flattery alone. I find out you fucked with my car again and I’ll turn you into roadkill, got it?” He accentuated the words with a wink.

Trickster leaned against the hood of his car, cat-like smirk reflecting back at him. “Roadkill is a new one. Don’t worry, sweetcheeks, I didn’t mess with your car.” 

“I told you not to call me that. You know my alias; use it,” Wooyoung grumbled, popping open his door.

“Why use the alias when you can just give me your real one?” Trickster straightened back up, head tilting to the side in clear challenge.

Wooyoung just laughed. “An alias is an alias for a reason. I’m Mist and you’re Trickster; nothing more and nothing less.”

“Choi San,” Trickster said immediately. “My name is Choi San. Hopefully you remember that name, because I plan to make you _ scream it _ soon.”

All the blood in his veins immediately rushed to his feet. Wooyoung stared, dumbfounded for a moment, before he composed himself. He regretted his next words even as he spoke them. “Sounds like a fun challenge.”

What a damn mistake.

xxx

After a week of uneventful races later, Wooyoung found himself hanging out at the same bar. The location was a popular spot for most of the racing gangs, Wooyoung included. Though he didn’t have a gang to affiliate himself with, his reputation had earned him respect among those that did prowl the area. Anyone who had a brain in the racing underground knew him. They also knew not to mess with him whenever he happened to walk through the door.

Wooyoung had made more than his fair share of friends and friendly rivals over the last two years. Really, it would be a miracle if he hadn’t. One of those friends currently sat next to him, munching on a basket of french fries and chattering away. Jeong Yunho, a particularly tall man affiliated with one of the more lenient gangs; they’d met during the other man’s first race about a year prior. Wooyoung had beaten him but instead of taking a hit to his pride, Yunho seen it as a way to improve. Their relationship started as friendly rivalry before shifting to friends with benefits just short of the name. Whenever their adrenaline soared, it was wise to avoid either person’s car for a solid hour. So it was safe to say that Wooyoung enjoyed his company regardless of what they were doing.

Sharing your legal name wasn’t really a common thing among the racing world. Alias’ existed for a reason, but they were more for the show itself than personal relationships. Besides, it’d be a little weird to shout _ Prince _ during sex. Unless you were into that kinda thing.

“I’m pretty sure he knows not to touch your car; don’t know a single person who doesn’t,” Yunho said, voice barely reaching over the ambiance of the bar. “He probably did it just to get a rise out of you!”

“Oh he _ definitely _ did it to get a rise out of me.” Wooyoung leaned against the counter, lips twisted into a pout. “I’ve never met a person I couldn’t immediately get a read on.”

Yunho shoved a fry in his direction; Wooyoung ate it without fuss. “Trickster really got under your skin, huh?”

“I know you’ve heard the story of our first race countless times. Don’t know a single gang who doesn’t share it like a bedtime story.” He stuck out his tongue, finger idly picking at the grooves of the bar before them. 

A hand clapped against his shoulder, catching him off guard. Wooyoung’s gaze snapped over to Yunho, his expression bright and smile wide.

“Why do we race, Wooyoung?"

"Uh, because our home lives sucked and no one ever let us be ourselves?"

"Not that reason!" Yunho exhaled, just shaking his head. "For the thrill. To have fun. To feel _ alive. _" He shoved the basket of fries in Wooyoung's direction; his features were soft. "You haven’t looked this alive in months … maybe you don't see it as such a bad thing."

Wooyoung wished the truth of those words didn’t cut him straight to his core. He laughed awkwardly, the sound swallowed up by the riff of a song in the background, and picked up a single french fry. Deep down, he knew Yunho was right.

He just hadn’t decided if he hated it or not yet.

xxx

“Race me.” The sound of San’s voice snapped him out of his thoughts. Wooyoung leaned back in his seat, eyes seeking out the owner of the voice just beyond his open window. San stood about a foot away, hands shoved into the pockets of the same brown bomber jacket; he had a brow raised in challenge. 

Wooyoung smirked. “Not happy I beat you last time?”

Cheers and the sound of revving engines swallowed up Wooyoung’s voice, but it still carried loud and clear to his challenger. San’s expression mirrored his own, though his smile came across much darker.

“You’re only one victory ahead, sweetcheeks. Don’t get too cocky on me.”

“Cock on you? Sounds like fun,” another voice cut in, bringing both of them from their staring contest. A woman with neon green hair stood a little bit to San’s right and Wooyoung internally sighed. Known under the moniker of Holly, she held the reins to the biggest street racing gang Seoul had to offer. On top of being really, really fast, she was also drop dead gorgeous. Those who didn’t view her as a challenge ate their words immediately—both in races and in fists. Holly also happened to be the main judge of any race in the area.

If you wanted to gain favor, you didn’t want to piss off Holly.

Wooyoung hung an arm out his window, palm up. “Hey! Didn’t know you were out and about tonight.”

“I’m out every night,” she laughed, putting a hand on her hip. “Did I hear something about a race over here?”

San was a hair quicker than Wooyoung. He crossed his arms with the biggest smile, satisfaction dripping from him like a cat dragging a bird home for its owner. “You heard right. Yet another exciting race from Trickster and Mist.”

Wooyoung shot him a glare, San only throwing a wink back at him; there was no way he could back out now.

“Hmph, nice. I’ll go rally up some bets for good ol’ Holly then.” She smiled, clapping a hand against San’s back. Holly hurried back to the crowd down the way. Even from a distance, they could hear her shout the announcement of their race.

His eyes fixed upon San with the strength of a thousand suns. He wasn’t angry, however. His intensity burned at the prospect of another race. Another chance to knock his ego down a peg. Wooyoung waved his head in dismissal. “Better get to your car then, hm? Hope you’re ready to eat dust.”

“I’ll be eating something, sweetcheeks, but it won’t be dust.” San winked before turning his back to Wooyoung. He watched the other racer saunter off, really wishing he didn’t find the sight of his ass so appealing. _ Curse him. _

Wooyoung shifted his car into drive and pulled around to the makeshift startline. Lights from other cars and various glow sticks from the people gathered there illuminated the street. Music played from several different sources in an almost disorienting manner, mixed with cheers and shouts as word of a race spread like wildfire. Holly’s gang raced for fun; Wooyoung and San raced for bragging rights. The enjoyment in their hotheaded rivalry made for good entertainment after all. 

Holly, being the only person other than Yunho with permission to touch his car, leaned against his door. “He’s been practically salivating over you all night, you know. Wondering if you would be here, wanting me to reserve a spot for your race.”

“Of course he has,” Wooyoung said, lips twitching into a satisfied smile. “He ate my dust last time.”

She chuckled, holding out two crisp fifty-thousand won notes. “I’m throwing a bet of my own in tonight; don’t let me down, Mist.”

“You just like putting pressure on me don’t you.” Wooyoung shook his head. “The only way he’s winning tonight is if he cheats again.”

“Wouldn’t be fun without a little pressure!” Holly said, straightening back up. The sound of an engine revving made them both look to the right, San pulling up next to him in his ridiculously bright car. Wooyoung rolled his passenger window down, raising a brow in his opponent’s direction.

“You look confident, sweetcheeks!” San called out.

Wooyoung had pretty much accepted that San would never call him Mist.

“And why shouldn’t I be? I beat you last time.” His foot pressed against the gas, his car roaring to life. The crowd beyond cheered at the obvious pissing contest.

“Ah, good thing I’m feeling one-hundred perfect tonight then!”

Wooyoung looked to Holly. “Count it.” He fastened his seatbelt and leaned back in his seat, Holly stepping back from his car and raising a flag. His eyes met San’s across the way, challenge burning between them.

“Three!” The crowd echoed Holly.

“Two!” San winked once more, making Wooyoung’s heart skip a beat.

“One!” Wooyoung looked back to the road before them, mind tuning out all other noise as he prepared himself.

“_ Go! _”

The sound of their tires screeching across the pavement overpowered any other noise in that moment. Both cars lurched forwards, Wooyoung’s entire body filling with adrenaline immediately. San, not to be outdone, kept pace with him. 

The course they were on wasn’t a simple straight to the finish line type. This part of town was known for its roundabout at the end, an added obstacle that required a skillful drift and perfect control of your vehicle. Wooyoung had completed it multiple times; San had not.

San pulled ahead, leaving Wooyoung to grit his teeth. He jammed his foot into the pedal, determination humming through him with an energy like no other. His hands gripped the steering wheel with force just short of breaking it, knuckles white and angry. As they approached the roundabout, Wooyoung’s brain went into autopilot, hitting his brakes and turning his wheel at just the right angle. Wooyoung thanked his past self for taking so much time learning to drift; the skill was invaluable now.

He swung around the corner, back end of his car barely missing San’s as he went into the drift a little too late. Wooyoung allowed his body to move with with motion, leaning hard to the right. Thankfully no other cars happened to be out so late. The blond flicked his car into gear once more, slamming his foot on the gas as he tore back towards the starting line. 

San was right on his bumper, pulling a hard left in his mirror to get on the other side of him. Wooyoung grit his teeth as they kept pace, speeding down the street at a blinding speed. As they tore across the finish line, Wooyoung hit his brakes and let himself coast to a halt. All in all, the race only lasted a solid minute, but it felt longer. They pulled back to Holly, the crowd in an absolute uproar. On the screen attached to Holly’s truck was a picture of their photo finish.

_ They’d tied. _

xxx

Their adrenaline over the “official race” had resulted in an impromptu one of their own, tires squealing as they shot off down the street. They’d dodged and weaved through traffic, the thrill only serving to rile Wooyoung up more and more. He loved danger, and he loved putting himself at risk even more. Racing made him feel alive … in more ways than one. So, really, it didn’t come as a surprise when they finally swerved into the parking lot of some abandoned factory. Off in a secluded corner where not even a street light could be found hadn’t exactly been Wooyoung’s idea of a first date, but it fit their personalities more than they would ever know. Dark, mysterious, and wild … it was _ exactly _ how it should be.

San wasted no time in crowding him back against the driver’s side door of his Mustang, a leg already between his own and hovering dangerously close to his crotch. His eyes were dark, smirk spanning across his features in a near cat-like manner as he pinned Wooyoung’s arms to cool glass with strong hands. They regarded each other with two very different degrees of measured calculation, searching for the faintest hint of intent to flicker across smooth features. 

Tension sparked in the space between their bodies, gazes not daring to break for fear of being the first to lose. Wooyoung, hellbent on getting a rise out of San, poked his tongue from the corner of his lips. The action carried challenge and temptation; it worked.

Wooyoung delighted in San being the first to break, the other man bringing his knee up to press with a little too much force against worn jeans. San moved closer, their chests finally touching as he forced Wooyoung’s body to arch up into him. Their faces were suddenly dangerously close, San’s breath accentuated with the faintest hint of coffee. Despite the darkness clinging haphazardly to their bodies, he could still see the subtle way San’s eyes took in every inch of his pretty face. Wooyoung felt like his heart might burst from his chest at any moment from the amount of excitement humming through him.

"_ God _, you have no idea how long I've wanted you like this." San rotated the knee currently holding Wooyoung's balls captive, eyes focused intensely upon his face. “And I still don’t even know your damn name.”

Wooyoung hiked a leg up to wrap it around San's waist, pulling him as close as the position would allow. "Wooyoung. My name is Wooyoung, and the feeling wasn't mutual until recently." A brow raised at Wooyoung's words. "You left quite the impression that night at the bar."

“Wooyoung … That name suits you.” San smiled, teeth flashing. His fingers flexed around Wooyoung's wrists in contemplation before he appeared to settle on speaking. "You're one of the first who didn't drop to their knees to please me, you know. You're a challenge I still want to win."

“I’m a man of complex tastes, _ Choi San _.” The other man’s breath hitched at his name said in such a manner, low and teasing. “Besides, if I dropped to my knees for cute guys who beat me in a race, I’d actually have to lose. Fairly.”

“There were other participants in our race too you know, but you’re never angry on their behalf,” San chuckled, changing course. He buried his head in the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, nosing the fabric of his jacket to the side. Soft lips teased at his throat. “Maybe it isn't the cheating you have a problem with, hm? Maybe it’s me?”

Wooyoung attempted to laugh the truthful jab off but it shook him to the core. The fact that San had made the observation at all sent uneasiness prickly at his toes despite the compromising position he was in. _ This isn’t the time for a heart to heart conversation _, Wooyoung inwardly grumbled. “You have an interesting tactic for getting people to sleep with you, loverboy.”

“Hey, it hasn’t failed me yet.” San’s teeth nipped at his skin, his knee regaining strength. It rubbed circles into his clothed cock as a combination of teeth, tongue, and lips assaulted his neck. Wooyoung could only squirm against his car, the press of San hot and heavy against him. “You have no idea how much I wanna fuck you against your pretty baby,” he whispered between kisses. “Wanna make you cum so hard you can’t even _ look at it _ without thinking about me ruining you.”

Wooyoung actually _ whined _, voice low and desperate. San’s deep accent sent a jolt of pleasure straight to his semi-hard dick, which happened to be straining uncomfortably in his pants. 

“Would you like that, _ Wooyoung? _” His name said in such a rough voice had to be illegal.

_ Fuck it _, Wooyoung thought. Even if it happened to be a one night stand, literally, he would at least be able to satisfy the curiosity that had been threatening to swallow him whole for weeks. Wooyoung wasn’t one to back down from a challenge regardless but at least he could attempt to rationalize what he was about to say.

“Let’s make a bet,” he said, San pulling away so their eyes could meet. “You wanted me to, and I quote, _ scream your name _, right? Get it to happen and I’ll never bring up the cheating thing again.”

San eyed him, expression betraying nothing. “And what do you get if I fail?”

“Well, nothing in particular; I mostly just wanna see if you’ll succeed.” Wooyoung waggled his tongue, brows raised. 

The other man just laughed, smile subtle. “I don’t think you know just what kind of person you’re up against, Wooyoung. I’ll _ absolutely destroy you _, if that’s what you want.” San leaned forwards, hiking his knee a little higher. Their lips brushed. “Quick don’ts.”

“Don’t underestimate me; I can handle anything. I wouldn’t be a racer if I was a coward,” he said, eyes flashing. “Just don’t piss on me and I think we’ll get along just fine.”

“Sounds good.” San barely finished speaking before he finally pressed their lips together, rough and insistent. His tongue prodded at Wooyoung’s bottom lip but the action wasn’t really needed. Wooyoung allowed him to slip inside, something scraping along his teeth as it went. His eyes flicked to the side, meeting San’s as realization flooded his mind; he had a tongue piercing. _ A whole ass tongue piercing _. The metal ball at the top pressed against the roof of his mouth, Wooyoung groaning. It didn’t feel good but it didn’t feel bad either. His body just seemed ready to accept whatever kind of contact it could get.

San finally let go of one of his wrists, moving it to tangle into Wooyoung’s hair instead. He held him steady as sucked on his tongue, Wooyoung using his newfound freedom to slip between their bodies and dip underneath San’s jacket. His fingers sought out a clothed nipple with a fervent need. San actually _ growled _ into his mouth and his mind spiraled into a near dizzying haze. Wooyoung’s fingers finally found what they were looking for, tweaking San’s nip and immediately earning a warning tug on his hair. Unfortunately for San, his attempt at punishment just made Wooyoung harder; if that were even possible.

San tugged Wooyoung’s head back sharply, the new angle allowing him to nearly force his tongue down the shaking man’s throat. Wooyoung allowed his hand to travel over the entire expanse of San’s body that he could reach, reveling in the sensations shooting through him. Apparently San had made it his personal goal to suck every bit of air from Wooyoung’s lungs. Only when Wooyoung’s knees gave out did he relent, breaking their kiss. San lapped at his lips even as Wooyoung’s breath escaped in desperate gasps.

“If you think my tongue is fun, I can’t wait until you see what else I’ve got,” he whispered, winking even as shock fanned across Wooyoung’s features.

_ Oh no. Big oh no. _ “You don’t. Tell me you don’t.”

“I do, sweetcheeks. I’d let you suck me off to get a feel for it, but I’m feeling a little impatient,” San responded, tongue poking out enough to flash the piercing in the center.

Still, Wooyoung refused to believe it until he had seen it. Or, rather, felt it. His free hand flew down, palming San through his leather pants; he gave his hard length as much of a squeeze as he could manage.

San visibly flinched. “Easy there, you won’t feel it like that. Here, let me help.” His other wrist was finally freed, San dislodging the leg Wooyoung still had wrapped around his waist, before he took half a step back. Wooyoung watched as his fingers fumbled with the zipper concealing the dick that would either make or break his evening. Dare he say, but it looked like San was a little nervous too; he wasn’t sure why that delighted him so much. Zipper down and out of the way, Wooyoung watched him push the boxers he was wearing lower too. And dear God did Wooyoung immediately regret not initiating all of this sooner.

San was far from Yunho’s size, but his cock had a pretty grace to it that made his stomach do an excited backflip. What he lacked in girth he all but made up for in length. Whether fortunately or unfortunately (he hadn’t decided yet) San wasn’t lying. Just below the head, nearly hidden at the angle Wooyoung was viewing, was a glint of silver. _ Fuck. _

Their eyes met, San shrugging in a cocky manner and Wooyoung just silently cursing himself. Wooyoung unconsciously reached out, fingertips brushing over the piercing; it was real. San’s hips twitched in response.

“Go ahead, touch; it’s gonna be in you soon enough anyway.”

Wooyoung didn’t even bother answering, instead fisting San’s cock as best he could manage. He gravitated towards the piercing unintentionally, only vaguely paying attention to the other man as he fished around his pockets for something. A condom and the tiniest bottle of lube Wooyoung had ever seen hovered into his line of sight, distracting him from how badly he wanted to drop to his knees and run his tongue over San’s piercing. 

“Inside or outside the car. I have some … ideas for both,” San said, lips twitching in amusement.

“Outside. Cum is a bitch to clean from fabric.” He’d slept with Yunho once in his car months prior and the stain had taken a solid two weeks of intermittent scrubbing to lift. Wooyoung had vowed never to repeat the incident. That’s why they always ended up in Yunho’s car instead.

“Tsk, tsk, Wooyoung. Rookie mistake; always buy leather.” 

“Is that why you have leather pants?” Wooyoung teased.

“No. Leather just makes my ass look sexy.” San bapped the hand around his length away, Wooyoung pouting as he was denied. Instead, he hooked two fingers into Wooyoung’s waistband and yanked him forward with enough force to make him stumble. He fell into San’s chest, the latter taking advantage of the position to trace the shell of Wooyoung’s ear with his tongue. “Go to the hood of your car and bend over on it; I’ll take care of the rest.”

The demand, simple as it was, made an involuntary groan bubble from his throat. San let go and stepped out of his reach, leaving Wooyoung to stand there feeling a little scandalized. No longer having San to hold him upright felt a bit weird. His knees trembled as he took a step or two, rounding his Mustang to stand in front of it. Wooyoung didn’t lean forward yet, however, instead slipping his jacket from his shoulders and tossing it onto the windshield. He pressed his palms flat against the cool metal, a shiver running down his body.

For San, this didn’t seem to be enough. The other man nudged him with enough form to make him fall onto his elbows, chest coming into contact with the hood. 

“There, much better. Stay like that.”

If Wooyoung wasn’t so eager for something more he might’ve argued.

San set the condom and lube near his hands before pressing them against Wooyoung’s sides, dragging them down to his hips purposefully slow. His nails dug into the fabric with just enough force to be felt but not enough to leave any marks; it made him squirm. Those hands snaked around his waist and teased at the button holding his jeans shut. They popped it free, forcing Wooyoung to inhale sharply. The zipper came next and then San was shoving not only his jeans but his boxers down as well, allowing them to pool around his ankles. Cool air curled against his exposed skin.

“Fuck, Wooyoung, your ass looks great.” San hit one of his cheeks with the head of his cock a few times. “No lie, it’s probably the best I’ve ever seen.”

“As much as I appreciate the flattery, I’d prefer if you did something about it,” he responded, wiggling his hips; his ass jiggled enough to tempt San into action.

Wooyoung threw a glance over his shoulder, watching as San removed his jacket and dropped it onto the pavement below. He dropped to his knees upon it and immediately cupped Wooyoung’s asscheeks, spreading them eagerly. The latter looked back to the hood of his car, biting his lip to mentally prepare himself for what was about to happen.

“How’s this then, hm?” San flattened his tongue against Wooyoung’s hole, earning himself a sharp gasp. Surprisingly, Wooyoung didn’t feel the press of the piercing at all. He actually kinda forgot about it the moment San wiggled the tip of his tongue into him, mind turning to static as jolts of pleasure went straight to his cock.

Wooyoung_ loved _ getting eaten out. Nothing turned him on more. It didn’t take long for San to catch onto this either it seemed. Curse him for being so perceptive.

San ate him out like a champ, tongue reaching places Wooyoung didn’t even know existed. He alternated between slow, languid licks against his walls to kitten-like lapping at his entrance. The man didn’t relent for even a second, turning Wooyoung into a shaking squirmy mess against the hood of his beloved Mustang. The piercing didn’t really add or subtract anything from the experience. Wooyoung actually forgot about it entirely, if he were being honest. His orgasm grew ever closer, leaving him weak in the knees as heat coiled tightly in his midriff.

“F-fuck, gonna cum, _ gonna cum! _ ” He moaned. San immediately stopped, pulling back. Wooyoung made a noise of disapproval, throwing a glance over his shoulder; the man had the audacity to wink back at him. “ _ Why are you stopping! _” Wooyoung didn’t even care that his voice carried so much desperation. 

“Aww, you’re so cute all bleary eyed and needy.” San lightly smacked his ass, Wooyoung jumping from the sudden contact. “You need a lesson or two in edging.”

“You can give me _ whatever the fuck _ lesson you want if you dick me down, like, _ right now _.” 

“Okay,” came San’s response, his partner rising to his feet. He draped over Wooyoung’s back and fumbled with the previously abandoned condom and lube. Wooyoung watched him tear the condom wrapped open and carefully maneuver it onto his cock. He’d never been fucked by someone with a piercing. The situation had so much potential it nearly made his head spin.

San didn’t take his sweet time applying lube. His impatience radiated from his body in waves that overpowered even Wooyoung’s own neediness. Which, honestly, made sense; he was the one who wanted to fuck Wooyoung from the beginning. Who knew what messy tangle of thoughts were flashing through his head in that moment.

“Can’t wait to make you lose this bet,” San growled, voice low and dangerous. 

“You wi—” Wooyoung’s words were cut off as San pushed into him. The head of his cock popped into place so smoothly it was like he was meant for it. His own dick twitched in response, Wooyoung’s back arching as San’s fingers dug deeply into his hip bones. Wooyoung’s fingers scrabbled against smooth metal, and in that moment he realized, a little too late, why San had chosen this particular spot to fuck him in; he had nothing to ground himself with. 

San barely let him adjust to the feeling of being penetrated, sinking deeper and deeper. Wooyoung moaned a strange muddle of San’s name, elbows giving out completely. He pressed his forehead against the Mustang’s hood and resorting to panting like a dog in heat. It felt _ really fucking good _. As San bottomed out, Wooyoung’s knees gave. The other man caught him, warm hands moving to lift Wooyoung by his thighs. He pushed him further up the front of his Mustang and resorted to draping himself over his back, their hips flush. The position offered a degree of intimacy that Wooyoung wasn’t sure he liked, but he didn’t hate it either.

As if sensing the demand for San to move burning the tip of his tongue, his partner gave an experimental thrust. Following the moan of approval from Wooyoung, he did it again. Still with nothing to hold onto, Wooyoung’s mind focused entirely on the feeling of San moving within him. A string of whimpers and moans fanned across cool metal, Wooyoung drooling as his mind and body both became overwhelmed with euphoria. The piercing faded to the back of his mind. Though it did nothing for Wooyoung, it was doing wonders for San, his face contorted in a mask of pleasure as sweat beaded along his brow. 

San readjusted his angle, swinging a leg up to press his foot against the front bumper of Wooyoung’s car. His thrusts grew hard and fast, even the Mustang moving back and forth from the power behind his fucking. He brushed against Wooyoung’s prostate, the latter crying out in a high-pitched moan. It wasn’t quite San’s name yet but with him now knowing where to angle his thrusts … it wouldn’t take long.

And take long it didn’t.

San, upon his happy little discovery, focused all of his energy into pounding Wooyoung’s prostate in a manner that stars exploded through his vision with each thrust. All he could do was lie there and take it, becoming a slobbering whiny mess. Deep down, Wooyoung had known all along that he would lose. Wooyoung could probably lose a lot of things if he was able to get railed in the ass so nicely each time, truly.

His back arched, Wooyoung throwing his head back as white-hot pleasure sang through his veins. He came with a shout of San’s name so loud he actually felt relief they’d chosen an abandoned factory for their escapades. Cum splattered along the hood of his car and though he’d have a fit over it later, he didn’t give two shits in the moment. All that mattered was the pretty man ramming him from behind and the amount of euphoric bliss filling every corner of his body.

“_ Fuck yes _ ,” San breathed, “ _ So fucking beautiful, Wooyoung. _Wanna hear you scream my name again.” San continued to fuck into him, thrusts growing more and more erratic as he went. The grip on his hips felt so tightly that Wooyoung was certain he’d be bruised in the morning. Not that he cared; they would be souvenirs of a night spent being young and wild.

With a final snap of his hips, San’s nails raked along his hip bones as he came. A deep moan of Wooyoung’s name sent yet another shiver down his spine. It sounded so possessive and Wooyoung wasn’t sure why that turned him on yet again.

For a moment, the only sounds came in the form of the duo attempting to catch their breath. San, realizing how tightly he was holding Wooyoung, finally let go. He pulled out carefully. Wooyoung groaned as an ache already began creeping up his body. The other man helped him onto his feet, offering an arm for support while he fought through the jelly threatening to take him out at the knees; he was more grateful for it than he would ever put into words.

His eyes flicked to the hood of his Mustang. Streaks of his own cum had painted an interesting picture along the sleek black metal and Wooyoung groaned, half from how hot it looked and half from how much of a pain it would be to clean once it dried. 

“Heh, I knew you’d lose,” San teased, voice dangerously close to his ear.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wooyoung grumbled.

“Hey, you proposed it!” He wrapped an arm around Wooyoung’s waist, massaging the skin he’d most definitely bruised. “No more bringing up the cheating. Also we should totally do this again, only next time let me shove you face first into a mattress.”

“Hm, I’ll think about it.” Wooyoung pulled away so he could pull his boxers and pants back up, not looking to embarrass himself by tripping too. “I think I have a better idea though.”

“Oh?” San stepped close once more, their eyes meeting. “Care to share?”

Wooyoung tugged on the collar of his shirt, pulling him close enough for their noses to touch. “I win the next race, I get to fuck you. You win the race, you get to fuck me.”

“Hm, I’ll think about it,” he replied, mirroring Wooyoung’s tone. He leaned forwards and the two kissed once more, sloppy and uncoordinated; it only lasted a solid minute before San pulled away. “Would be nice to get some actual rewards for making you eat my dust in a race.”

“Oh trust me,” Wooyoung said, his voice dangerous, “You aren’t winning next time, not after tonight.”

“I do love a good challenge, and you’re just full of them, sweetcheeks.”

Maybe Wooyoung could get used to seeing San everyday. Maybe he could get used to being called ‘sweetcheeks’ too. There were many maybes, and Wooyoung felt ready to explore all of them, no matter where this sudden shift in their relationship happened to take them. Even if they remained a twist on friends with benefits, Wooyoung would be fine with that too. San was a very pretty man with a very pretty cock; what wasn’t to love? Plus he’d get to brag to Yunho about it.

San would definitely be repaid at a later date; Wooyoung would make sure of it.

Now he just had to worry about driving home with cum splattered on his hood. An interesting problem for sure, but not one Wooyoung would complain about anytime soon. San had definitely obtained his goal of Wooyoung remembering what happened every time he looked at his car for like the next two months; it’d be difficult not to.

“Next time, I’ll be the one to ruin you,” Wooyoung said with a sweet smile.

“Oh, Wooyoung,” San replied, “_ I can’t wait. _”

**Author's Note:**

> san with a dick piercing am i right haha,,
> 
> find me on twt [@moonswallowed](https://twitter.com/moonswallowed) for more spicy content!!


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